Sure
by SweetSinger2010
Summary: The night after Hera's capture, the Ghost crew isn't sure what's going to happen next, but they're sure they can lean on each other. Post-Rebel Assault.
1. Ezra and Sabine

A/N: Some light Ezrabine. Oops. Also, I wrote this without re-watching Rebel Assault. Apologies for any inaccuracies.

* * *

Sure

 _Ezra and_ Sabine

Ezra knew Sabine was waking up before she spoke, before she even began to stir. Her mind thrummed with a nervous energy he could sense without having to work too hard at it. No way she was resting well. He wasn't surprised when she woke with a jerk, inhaling sharply when her hand fell against his chest. No doubt she'd forgotten they were sleeping so close together on the cave floor. He listened as the sound of her breathing evened from its startled cadence to something slow and steady. Her mind and emotions were unguarded. She didn't move her hand from his chest, so after a few moments, he decided to enclose it with one of his own.

"You're up?" She murmured sleepily, not yet fully alert.

"Yeah."

"Where's Zeb?"

"Out on patrol with some of the others."

She hesitated. "Kanan?"

"He's on watch."

"Uh huh."

The irony wasn't lost on either of them. "Ryder is with him," Ezra explained.

Sabine nodded in the darkness. "Can I—" She stopped, clearing her throat. "Do you mind if—"

Somehow, he knew exactly what she was asking. He tugged gently on her hand and she rolled over once, putting herself in his embrace. She tucked her head under his chin and he could feel her breath on his neck. Holding her so close was exotic and dizzying and new and everything he'd ever hoped for. With his arms around her, he could feel strength in the muscles in her back and shoulders and softness in the curves of her waist. She was that perfect juxtaposition of power and femininity which had always mystified and enchanted him. Yet Ezra knew that this moment, this closeness, wasn't about any kind of romantic attraction. Right here, right now, was about comforting each other.

"Do you think she's alright?" Sabine's question came after a long silence and Ezra didn't know what to say.

"Honest answer?"

"No," she said quietly.

"Then I bet she's just fine."

"Chopper said she was hurt in the crash." Sabine didn't believe his lie any more than he did.

He sighed.

"Ezra." Her voice was strained. "What if Thrawn executes her?"

He shook his head vehemently. "He won't. Not yet, anyway."

That was the first honest thing anyone had said in hours and it settled heavily between them. Sabine tilted her head back to try and peer into his face. "How is Kanan so calm? You remember how Hera was when he got captured by the Inquisitor; she was calm, but so…tense underneath. Even I could sense that. But Kanan…you _know_ how he feels about her, and he's just so…"

"This isn't like that," Ezra said heavily. "I can't explain it. He just…he knows what he has to do."

She pulled away slightly, propping up on one elbow so she could look at him fully. "If he goes after her, there's a good chance we may never see either of them again. Or only one of them might come back. You get that, right?"

The moon was beginning to set, the first glow of sunrise creeping into the darkness. Ezra could just see the concerned crease between Sabine's brows and the tightness around her mouth. Tentatively, he reached out to stroke her cheek. Surprisingly, she leaned into his touch. "Yeah, Sabine," he said. "I get it. And if he does go after her, I get that, too."

Sabine snorted. "You 'get it' if he wants to walk into certain death without any backup? How are _you_ so calm?" Irritation crept into her voice; it was her go-to defense mechanism.

"Because it's what I would do." She blinked at him wordlessly and he nodded. "I'd do it for you."

"Ezra—" Her voice was soft and awed.

Suddenly, his heart was racing and he was tripping all over his words like he was fourteen again. "Listen, just don't—I mean—I _would_ , but I don't necessarily _want_ to have to—so just don't do anything—"

Sabine scowled and jabbed him in the arm, but it was insincere. "Idiot."

She settled back into his arms and he held her until it was time to get up and face the day, both of them silent and neither of them going back to sleep. Ezra wasn't sure whether this would ever happen again—Sabine so close he could feel her heart beat—and he wasn't sure whether Hera would be okay, or what Kanan planned to do. He wasn't sure whether they'd all manage to escape Lothal with their lives, or whether they'd make their last stand and get ground into dust under the full weight of the Imperial war machine.

All he was sure of was that come what may, the Empire couldn't break the bond they'd built with each other, and it couldn't blot out their hope that someday, somewhere, things would be better.

For now, for this moment before sunrise, Ezra was sure that was enough.

* * *

A/N: Honest thoughts? Anything ooc? I'm not used to this new, Mature Ezra.


	2. Zeb

A/N: I started this right after I started the previous installment and then just sat on it because I got distracted. No Ezrabine this time, and I changed the summary so this would be a little less misleading. Sorry, y'all. How'd I do with Zeb? I've never had him as my POV character before. Constructive criticism welcome!

* * *

Sure

 _Zeb_

The ration bars tasted even more like sand than usual and Zeb couldn't bring himself to choke a whole one down. Life's too short for things you don't like, he thought wryly. He sat back against a stone wall, watching the sky begin to lighten at the mouth of the cave. It was a testament to the frenetic blur of the last couple days that he felt neither confusion nor curiosity when he saw Ezra and Sabine coiled around one another, holding tightly, hallway between waking and sleeping. He figured maybe they were cold, or maybe they were scared, or maybe they were taking a lesson from Hera and Kanan and not ignoring whatever feelings were between them.

Hera and Kanan.

Karabast.

 _That_ had been painful to watch the last eight years. He'd joined the crew right in the middle of some of the worst of it, too. The first time Zeb ever met Kanan was in a bar on some pseudo-civilized world, and the man had been half0druink in the middle of the day. Zeb very vividly recalled hearing him proclaim that he'd _burn the karking galaxy down for that woman_ , and Zeb, with all the lurid interest of one watching a speeder crash, sat down to listen. (By his reckoning, Kanan never touched another drop of liquor after that day.) Later, Zeb saw a green-skinned Twi'lek walking through a crowded market with a graceful stride and unforgettable fire in her eyes and he though, _I'll just bet that's the girl._

Sure enough, she was.

And when she turned out to be the contact that an acquaintance of an acquaintance had set him up with, Zeb joined her crew out of curiosity as much as anything else; he wanted to know exactly how the Bar Man and the Intimidating Green Girl managed to work together. He was surprised to find that, as a team, they did extraordinary work.

It was everything else they seemed to have trouble with.

Only, there was no "everything else" as far as Zeb could tell, and maybe _that_ was the problem. It seemed Hera and Kanan both wanted more from their relationship than she was willing to give, and Zeb doubted whether they ever talked about it outright. As weeks passed, he realized that the tension between Kanan and Hera was something that ebbed and flowed by the day, and sometimes faded altogether. Maybe it was something they were used to. Or maybe they just realized that their unresolved conflicts weren't worth wrecking their friendship over—if _friendship_ was the right word. It was obvious they shared something stronger, but Zeb never dared to ask.

The eternally-stoic Lasat never said much of anything about it at all, except to hand out the occasional, painfully trite piece of advice when they were in the middle of a rough patch. He watched them from a distance mostly, even after he'd been aboard the _Ghost_ for years. Didn't mean he wasn't rooting for them, though.

As the sun continued to brighten the sky, Zeb could just make out Kanan's form outside the cave, kneeling in his meditative pose. Casting one last glance at Ezra and Sabine, he made his way out to the older Jedi. Ryder was nearby, chin touching his chest, dead asleep.

Zeb cleared his throat. "You know Ryder zonked out, right?"

"Couple hours ago." Kanan nodded. "It's okay—I can see everything I need to."

"I believe you." Zeb _did_ believe him, but that didn't keep the fur on his arms from standing on end. If he hadn't completely adjusted to Kanan's spooky, Jedi-Force-stuff by now, he doubted he ever really would.

"How are you holding up?"

Zeb stared. That was the question _he'd_ come out here to ask. "Me?"

Kanan's mouth twitched sarcastically. "You did say Ryder's asleep."

"Uhh…" Zeb scratched the back of his neck. "I'm…good, I guess? Was kind of wondering about you." He was very pointedly not saying Hera's name, or referring to the fact that she was who-knows-where and in who-knows-what condition.

"I'm okay," Kanan said, and he sounded like he meant it.

"You're—" Zeb could only finish that thought with incredulous silence. "Well that's good, then. Good." With a short nod, Zeb turned and headed back toward the cave. He didn't get very far.

"But you're not," Kanan guessed.

Before he could even process what he was doing, Zeb turned around and stormed back to Kanan. "No, I'm not especially _okay._ You know why? I'll tell you why. You ever get tired of having so much taken from you? I do. Like it's not enough we both survived bloody _genocide_ —the galaxy decides to take _Hera_ , too?" He stopped, breathing raggedly. Kanan was watching him, face impassive and patient. It was irksome. "And I know—" He shook his head. "You and she—Hera's your—I mean, it is how it is between you. But I…care about her too, you know?" He cringed to hear himself say that out loud, but he kept on going. "Not like _that_ —obviously—just—" He cut himself off with a frustrated growl.

Kanan tilted his head. "Just what, Zeb?"

He was silent a long moment before he decided to answer. "I had a sister," he said distantly. It had been a long time since he'd spoken of her. The memories ached. He didn't say her name—couldn't. "She was older, took care of me when we were kids. She died young. Her body wasn't strong, but she had this…heart and _fire_ about her." He paused, scuffing his foot in the dirt. "Hera's…a kriffing lot like her."

"You ever tell her that?"

"No."

"You should," Kanan said with a small smile. "I think it'd mean a lot. She'd like that."

"Yeah, maybe." He nodded, turning back toward the cave.

"She's not lost, Zeb," Kanan called. Zeb just shook his head and kept walking. He didn't see how this could possibly turn out well, and it pained him that Kanan was still hanging on to optimism. Zeb felt about as bleak as he ever had. He was sure—if this all went as wrong as he expected it to—that he could pick up and rebuild his life again.

He just wasn't sure he wanted to.


End file.
